Luyện nghe bài hát English Fire

Seven brides serve me sins
Seven seas for me
From Orient to Rlyeh
Abydos to

And Sirens from stern
But now I to play
For I to return to woodland ferns
Where Herne and his wild lay

Now the are turning, spurning the darkness
The purgations of distinguished tours
Are but stills in to the thrill that Im once more
to the bedding of her English shores

The wind bickered in mill sails
Eyes in deep thickets of trees
And mists clung tight in panic to
Brigantia spoke her soul to me

From Imbolg to
Lughnasadh to feasts
I heard her lament as blent
a chimerical beast

Now the tidal are turning in darkness
The celebrations of wars
Are but in time to the chill that climbs once more
Dreading the red on her English shores

Gone are the rustic of my youth
Cruel winters cut sacred throats
With polished scythes reap worldwide
Pitch skies and forest smoke

And the hosts I saw there
of carrion law
Drove the of my forbears
To rove and once more

One of her sons from the far flung
Come home to
The rampant line of the
Risen over fields

Now the are turning burning in darkness
The salvation of her hungry
Shalt spill like wine from the to chines that pour
Spreading her on these English shores

For the hosts I saw there
Drones of law
Drove the of my forbears
To rove and once more

This is a for England
From its doze
is a waking for England
Lest hope and glory are regarded as